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* --a thump and another choked cry as his chest slams onto Allen's knees-- and his hands grab at the front of the boy's clothes, pulling at them, body trembling violently with the effort. *

[Allen can feel the heat through his clothes-- that's the very first thought, how hot Chrysos' body is, but the rest of him is wide-eyed and terrified, freezing up as all of his careful training, knowledge, ability to understand -- symptoms of hysteria, delusions, violence, increased strength, tremors, pain, unbelievable heat -- the conclusion he's reaching is only causing his heart to pound too fast, his stomach in his throat. He weakly, slowly tries to escape from him as if tranquilized himself, unable to compose himself as Chrys claws at him.]

C-chrysos. Chrysos, please stop. You're hurting yourself.

* he pauses, still clutching Allen's collar-- and whether it's the words, or the sedatives kicking in, or just sheer exhaustion... *

* letting go, he collapses to one side, shivering and whimpering. *

[Frozen in place.

He turns his head to stare at him, then stares at where the temperature stick had clattered to the ground. It's just a line of red, half ash, like incense half-burned. That temperature and alive. Beyond human, this disease transforms the sick to something that accommodates great rage of the mind and body. But this is no Berserker state.]

* the trembling slowly, slowly subsides, though not entirely gone. *

* a slight movement... and bloodshot blue eyes looking up at him. *

...Feramis...?

[Bloodshot eyes... so bloodshot they are nearly red.

There is no mistake.]

Chrysos Kenni, how have you become so sick?

* eyelids close, and open, and it takes a moment. *

...hoped... you could tell me that.

[applying SOME MORE SEDATIVE]

You have a very rare illness. What has happened to you? Your home is the Core. You should not have this.

...

Where... from...?

[speaks low, even, and fast]

The last case for it was far north, in Lepus. It effected Berserkers, but it was realized that it could affect anyone. It induces a transformation in the body and freezes you there, permanently. The body changes into a constantly regenerative state to accommodate, until the victim is unrecognizable and entirely mad.

...north...?

* for a moment, his gaze shifts from Allen's face to the worktable behind him. *

...the sample...

. . .[follows his gaze]

What sample?

* the worktop is bare, but he's eying the lowest left drawer. *

...'sygnite'. Prospectors... found last month. Up north.

Ran tests... when it came.

. . .Something must have triggered it. . . It isn't caused by a mere stone. Has anyone else touched it?

Ceres...

* --eyes widen, and he tenses-- fingers digging into the floor as he tries to push himself up *

Ceres-- she handled--

* --and his arms buckle, sending him to the floor again. *

[Allen tenses and his hands hover when Chrysos collapses again]

How long ago did she handle it? Hours ago?

* gritting his teeth together, breath hissing through the gaps. *

...no.

Not sure... days.

. . .She is fine. She does not have it. Whatever the trigger is must not have lasted.

[fists his hands]

Chrys, listen to me. There-- there is one way to cure this. Are you listening?

...

* nods. *

The only way to stop the process is to entirely -- entirely still your body. Should your soul grip your body, the regenerative properties in your body will exhaust themselves on reviving your life.

* looks at Allen for a long, long moment... before comprehension dawns. *

You're saying...

...only way out. Is death.

I don't-- I don't know another way. You're too short on time.

You call that a cure?

* curls up further, body tensing up again. *

Thought cures... meant living after.

What have you contracted such a sickness for! How am I to treat you when this requires you to faith, and I to--

If I-- continue to give you sedatives constantly, your body may relax its strain and the pain will-- lessen, but the longest anyone has lasted like that is five years, and by the end there is no choice but madness. In that time you will not be capable of the life you have lived, ever again.